feliciakw: (Jensen 2005)
feliciakw ([personal profile] feliciakw) wrote2008-10-08 04:25 pm

Still Life - "Gravity" - Acts I, II, & III

It's been a while in coming, I know, but hopefully it's worth it.



Still Life – “Gravity”

Color Bars

ID Tag:

[Bart Simpson with the channel and phase check]

20th Century Fox TV

STILL LIFE

“Gravity”

Ep. #1AHJ04

EDITED MASTER

TRT = 44:23

2.09.04

Previouslies cover a lot this time around . . .
VOJ explaining that Max and Maggie should stay apart, she’s still Jake’s girl. Max & Maggie; Whit enters the picture, telling Maggie he knows all about her and Jake and her and Max; Max telling Maggie it’s good for her to see other people . . .

Intro of Jonathan Gray as Charlotte’s campaign manager and someone who grates on Ben and who Daisy wants to lose her virginity to . . .

Em and Stack starting a catering service; the intrigue with Em and Gideon; Gid taking and then returning Em’s money; ending with Em crying and Max comforting.

BLUE WASH to:

Act I

Amorphous blue turns into extreme CU on a blue guitar. Pull out to find a middle-aged black man playing the guitar. He’s a street musician playing the blues.

Exterior, Sidewalk, Day:

VOJ: I lived for this! A song, a moment.

Maggie is strolling down the street with Whit. They stop to listen to the music.

Maggie: (to musician) Sounds good.

Musician: Sure’n do. Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.

Maggie and Whit grin at each other.

VOJ: Anything that made Maggie smile. I’m glad to see it again.

Whit: (as he pulls out some bills, to musician) Good for you, man. You don’t need to take her guff. (He drops the money in the open guitar case.)

VOJ: I’m trying not to hate that part of the reason she’s smiling is that guy.

Whit and Maggie continue down the sidewalk.

VOJ: I wish I could say that death cures you of all your worldly desire, but really, to love something you can’t touch? Just makes it worse.

Blue Wash to:

Moments later, Whit and Maggie continue down the sidewalk, making dinner plans.

Whit: So where are we gonna go for dinner tonight?

Maggie: I didn’t say I’d have dinner with you at all.

Whit: Well, I’m only in town for a couple more days, so you’d better take advantage of me now.

Maggie: (with a grin) You wish.

Whit: (also smiling) I meant my hospitality. Wh—Why do you always have to go to the dirty place?

Maggie: (laughing) I don’t know. You can take the girl out of the gutter . . .

They arrive outside the gallery as Max is coming out of the door one door down. (Wardrobe notes for wardrobe geeks: Blue T, the maroon striped overshirt, hidden under his heavier sandy, shearling lined coat, satchel slung across his shoulder. BTW, girls, I wish, I wish, I wish you could see Jensen in this scene. He’s just fascinating to watch, and really easy on the eyes as well.)

Whit: (very cordially) Hi. How you doing, Max?

Max is a little surprised to run into them, but returns the greeting in kind.

Max: Hey, hi.

Whit: (to Maggie) Uh, listen, I’m going to go make a few calls, uh, back to New York. See ya, Max.

Max: Yeah.

As Whit pushes past Max, he holds out his hand, and they exchange a brief, cordial handshake.

Maggie and Max step toward each other (Max’s hands are securely buried in his pockets now).

Max: (a small smile, pushing past any awkwardness) How’s it goin’?

Maggie: Oh, you know. Good. Slow. We’re taking it slowly.

But the awkwardness will not be avoided. Max nods, shifts on his feet, looks back toward where Whit departed,

Max: Right. That. Actually, I meant how’s it goin’ in general.

Maggie: (with an embarrassed chuckle) Right. Because talking about it would be awkward.

Max: (a good natured smile) Agreed.

Max moves away, toward his bike parked at the curb. Maggie follows him. As they converse, Max takes off his satchel and secures it to his bike, prepares in general to leave.

Maggie: So you’re looking for work?

Max: Yeah, I just, uh, had an interview with Finn Straley. He’s a AP photographer.

Maggie: I know Finn. How did that go?

Max: Good. I guess he liked my stuff. But, you know, he’s a photo journalist, which is a totally different thing, so he wants me to go out and take some shots of sports and news events.

Maggie: He didn’t say no. That’s a good thing.

Max: So I think I’m gonna go over and take some shots of the next LeBron James, down at Sullivan High, there’s supposed to be this kid that’s really amazing. I dunno, it’s exactly the kind of work I’ve been looking for. It even pays well.

Maggie: I’ll keep my fingers crossed.

A pause. Max looks hesitant, maybe doubtful.

Max: Even though I’m gonna be working right next door?

Maggie: Of course. Why not?

Max: I wasn’t sure if you’d be cool with that much me around.

Maggie: I’m fine. (A small, nervous clearing of her throat) Besides, it’ll be nice to have a friend close by.

Max: (nodding acceptance) Cool.

Maggie: Cool.

Blue Wash to:

Interior, High school gymnasium:

There’s a practice going on, with a few spectators in the stands, and Max on the sideline snapping pics.

VOJ: I used to joke with Max about his photography thing, told him he was doing it just to meet girls. Like he needed the help. But right now, maybe he does need help. He’s got his eye on the wrong person.

The camera pans/tracks across the spectators, players on the sidelines . . .

VOJ: I wish he’d look at someone new. Someone who isn’t Maggie.

. . . and stops on another photographer, a pretty blonde in a form fitting green T. High cheekbones, long wavy blonde hair, big smile. Could be model material.

VOJ: Maybe someone like her. Photography. Common interest. That’s a check.

An official pushes the girl away from the line, she’s apparently getting too close to actually being on the court. She doesn’t appreciate it.

VOJ: Bold, aggressive, check, check.

She trips a little as she’s stepping backward, making her way backward up the sideline.

VOJ: Kind of a clutz. Cute. Half a check. If I could just get them to . . .

She stumbles and falls—right on Max.

VOJ: Call me crazy, but I’m feeling kinda magic man right now. Wish that happened more often.

Max helps push her to her feet before getting up himself. She’s thin, wearing hip-hugger jeans, and we can see a tat across the small of her back.

Max and Blondie smile at each other (her eyes appear to be gray), and she takes the initiative to introduce herself.

Blondie: So. Hi.

She holds out her hand, and they exchange a rather hearty handshake.

Max: Hi.

Blondie: I’m Nona.

Max: I’m Max.

He looks a bit . . . enchanted. A beautiful blonde photog just fell in his lap. He eyes her a moment as she continues snapping pictures before he raises his own camera. While he’s snapping pictures, she gives him a sidelong appraisal, and her smile speaks volumes.

Wipe to:

Moments later. Nona and Max are side by side, snapping pics as the players run up and down the court.

Nona: You here as a fan?

Max: Partly.

A young black player makes a great shot.

Nona: Williamson can ball, huh.

Max: Yeah, they say he’s going pro next year. He always looks so pissed.

The player lines up at the foul line to take a shot as Max raises his camera again.

Nona: (calling to the player on the court) Yo, Williamson! Smile!

Through Max’s viewfinder we see Williamson look toward the camera—with a scowl.

Max smiles good naturedly at the failed attempt.

Nona: Endorsements are gonna be a problem for him.

Max: Sounds like you’re quite a fan.

Nona: Eh. More of a hockey girl.

She crosses in front of Max to move toward a better position.

Max: (following her) Really. So what are you doing here?

Nona: Same as you. Williamson.

Max watches her very appreciatively.

Nona: When he shoots, he hangs in the air a second too long, like a dancer, mocking gravity, ya know? I love that.

Max is shaken from his thoughts by a change in dynamic on the court. The practice is over and the players are hitting the showers.

Max: Uh, I gotta get somethin’ better than what I got. (He lifts his camera to indicate his meaning, then makes quickly toward the end of the court where the players are leaving. He tries, snapping a few pics, but he’s getting nothing but backs.)

Max: Damnit. (He pushes his hair back in frustration.)

Nona: God, you give up easy. Camera ready?

Max watches her as he raises his camera, waiting for some unknown cue, then prepares to snap the pics. Nona reaches for the hem of her T.

Nona: Yo, Williamson!

And as Williamson turns around, Nona lifts her shirt.

Which takes Williamson completely by surprise,

Williamson: Oh, shee!

. . . and he can’t help but smile as he starts to back away from what he knows he shouldn’t be looking at.

As Nona puts her shirt back down, Max looks at her incredulously, attention divided between taking the picture and the crazy woman standing next to him.

When the players are gone, Max grins, laughing in disbelief.

Max: You can’t flash teenage boys. (He says it as if it should be obvious.)

Nona: (laughing) He didn’t seem to mind.

Max: I’m sure he didn’t mind, I’m just saying . . . you can’t flash teenage boys. (This second time it’s said almost as if not only should it be obvious, but flashing teenage boys is a rather serious offense, almost like it's taking advantage.)

Nona: I think I just did.

Max: (still smiling) Well, fine. They’re yours. (And his eyes shift south briefly before returning to her face.) You can share ‘em with whoever you want. (His grin is full of good natured mischief.)

Nona: Okay, then. Thanks for the advice.

Max: Mm-hm. I’m gonna go develop these. You want to, uh, see how they turn out?

Nona: Let’s go.

Blue Wash.

OPENING CREDITS

Hey, additional lyrics!

What if you knew I could see
Down the road where you are
‘Cause you know that I’m here when you’re laughin’.
And to life we could hold on
So let it chance
Give me all the love in your life
And I give you a sign
And I give you all that’s mine
Just
Smile. Can you hear me?
Can your heart hold onto me?
And I’m calling out to you.


[Note: This ep written by Kip Koenig]
[Note: This ep directed by Lev L. Spiro]

Act II

Interior, A very sparse but brightly light industrial kitchen (a converted garage?), Day:

Stack shoves a stove against a wall as Em watches.

Em: Plug it in. We’re in business. Or we will be. If we get any business.

Stack: (looking highly doubtful, skeptical, even disgusted) An electric stove.

Em: (with a sigh) Alright. Let’s buy you a fancy gas range with all the money we have. Oh, I forgot. We spent it all.

Stack: We invested in ourselves. And you need to chill. We’re gettin’ our name out there. Gigs are gonna come in. We’re livin’ the dream, man! We’re entrepreneurs.

Em: We’re unemployed.

Stack: (with gusto!) We’re alone against the world.

Em is not impressed as she puts on some gloves and starts to scrub the stovetop.

Stack: (toning it down) Alone together, though. Alone like catering pioneers. Not alone like our boyfriend skipped town on us.

Em: Your compassion is touching as always.

Stack: I’m sorry. Hey, are you alright?

Em: I just want to know if he’s okay.

Stack: Me, I’d want to know where his ass is so I can demand an apology before I kick it.

Em: Stack . . .

Stack: But unlike me, you’re selfless.

Em: I talked to Gideon’s friends from college, even had my dad check the police reports. Nobody can find him.

Stack: (rolling his eyes, trying to be supportive, but overcome with exasperation) He’s probably fine. Sometimes a man needs to hide out for a little while, I guess.

Em: Yeah. He’s not hiding out. He’s gone.

Stack: And you know this how?

Em shrugs a shoulder.

Stack: I’m tellin’ ya, you just need to forget this chump. You’re out of his league.

Em: (snapping off the rubber gloves, ready to change the subject) Let’s save the talk for potential clients. Tell ‘em how great we are.

She picks up one of two thick telephone book off of a stainless steel table and tosses it to Stack. He catches.

Em: You start with “A,” I’ll start with “Z,” first one to get to the middle of the phone book wins. You get the bad pen. (She tosses it to him. He catches it. His look says that he’s kind of surprised his teasing has put her in such a bad mood. Oops.)

Cut to:

Interior, Morgan Campaign Kitchen, Day:

Jon is giving directions to some volunteers as Daisy and Willa stuff envelopes at the kitchen island.

Jonathan: (to Daisy) We need to go faster with these.

Daisy: I’m taking pride in my work.

Jonathan: Take pride in going faster.

Daisy: (with a coy smile) Well, I’m saving my energy for . . . licking.

Willa: (quickly) Of the envelopes. She means licking of the envelopes.

Jon doesn’t know what to make of the exchange.

Charlotte is at the dining room table, and Ben is putting his jacket on before leaving for work.

Ben: Jonathan better look out. Daisy’s got her eye on him.

Charlotte: I think he can handle her.

Ben: Hm. So are we still on for dinner after your, uh, door-to-door thing?

Charlotte: Oh, honey, I forgot to tell you that we have a Chamber of Commerce meeting tonight.

Ben: Tomorrow’s alright.

Charlotte: Neighborhood Association. (Looking to Jon) Jonathan, when’s my next available?

Jonanthan: (checking her calendar) Uuuhh . . . A week from Thursday, 5:20.

Ben: (not pleased) 5:20.

Charlotte: I’m sure we can do something sooner than that. (To Jon) Put it on the book for now.

Max enters with Nona.

Ben: Hey, Max.

Max raises a hand, waving a greeting to his dad.

Max: Hey.

Charlotte: (delighted to see her son and obviously interested that he has a guest) Hey! How—how was the basketball thing?

Max: Uh, it was good. It was really good. (I love the little smile.) This is Nona.

Nona: (in introduction) Hi. (She’s got almost as many teeth as an Osmond.)

Ben & Charlotte: Hi.

Daisy & Willa: (almost simultaneously) Hey. (Daisy is grinning that all-knowing ear-to-ear grin she has.)

Max: We’re gonna be in the dark room. (Yeah, Max recognizes his sister’s smile, and he’s trying to make a gracious exit.)

Nona: Nice to meet you all.

They exit the scene.

Charlotte and Ben look at each other with a parent’s knowing.

Daisy: Who was that?

Willa: (giggling) Max was all, “Let me show you my dark room. Yeah.”

Daisy and Willa burst out laughing.

Cut to:

Interior, Dark Room:

Lighting is red as Max finishes developing his photos.

CU of one of the photos of Williamson when he got flashed. Camera pulls out to show Max picking the photo up with a pair of tongs and hanging it on a wire.

Nona is sitting on a stool looking through some of Max’s photos.

Nona: Hey, these are good!

Max hisses a sigh at the compliment.

Nona: They are.

Max looks at the picture he just hung up and starts chuckling. (The grin is to die for.)

Nona: What?

Max: Just the look on this kid’s face after you flashed him.

Insert CU up the pic of Williamson.

Max: He actually looks pretty into it.

Nona: You boys are so easy to please.

Max: Sometimes.

Nona: Most of the time.

She gets up and steps up to his workspace beside him.

Max: So what’s up? You live around here?

Nona: Uh-huh.

Max: And what do you do for work?

Nona: I design a line of sports clothes. Yoga wear.

Max: Really. You’re into yoga?

Nona: No, just the wear. I’m a total poser. Way too hyper to breathe through my chi or whatever.

Max grins as he continues pulling pics out of the chemical trays.

Max: So, what, you just take pictures for fun?

Nona: I do a lot of things for fun. (She steps up close to him to look over his shoulder at the pictures he’s hung.) Your job looks fun.

Max: Well, it’s not my job yet, but I’m workin’ on it. Just need a few more great shots.

Nona: So. Tell me who the girl is.

Max looks at her.

Nona: (prompting) The knee-buckler?

Insert CU of b&w of Maggie.

Max: (not really comfortable with the question) Just an ex. (He steps away, turning his back to Nona and the picture.)

Nona: (examining a strip of negatives) You keep Just-An-Ex’s photos around to torture yourself?

Max: (smiling at the joke as he turns back to hang more pictures) Yeah, I guess. It’s a long story.

Nona: Don’t worry. I don’t need to hear it. So, it’s “over” over?

Max nods.

Max: She’s datin’ someone else.

Nona: Rebound guy?

Max shrugs but doesn’t reply.

Nona: I’m an advocate of the rebound action. It’s really the best way to get on with it.

Max: Not a fan of the pity party?

Nona: Hitting the reset button with somebody else, that’s the way to go.

Max is intrigued.

Max: And what happens if your rebound relationship fails tomorrow?

Nona: (all breathy seduction) Define “fail.” (And she’s practically eating him with her eyes.)

Cut to:

Interior, Maggie’s apartment, Day:

Maggie opens the door and enters to a room full of vases of red roses. Whit enters behind her.

Maggie is very surprised. Whit grins at her and they both start chuckling.

Whit: (closing the door behind them) I’m sorry to stink the place up but, uh . . .

Maggie: (with a laugh in her voice) Whit, you jerk.

Whit: Oh, you’re welcome.

Maggie leans in and sniffs one of the roses.

Maggie: Well, they’re beautiful. Obviously.

Whit: But?

Maggie: (setting down her purse) Well, it’s just a move I’ve seen before.

The statement makes Whit a little awkward.

Whit: Right. Well, guys go for roses. It’s not original, but—

Maggie: From you, Whit. It’s your player move.

Whit’s expression says, “Busted.”

Maggie: You’ve had me order them for different women at least a dozen times.

Whit: I did?

Maggie nods.

Maggie: When I was your assistant.

Whit: (definitely caught “in the act”) Remind me to have my assistant remind me that you were my assistant.

Maggie: It’s still sweet. (And she steps up to him and offers him a kiss on the lips.)

She steps away, but Whit holds on.

Whit: They were heartfelt roses, you know. I told Shawna to order them with extra feeling.

Maggie: (grinning) I always knew you were a true romantic.

Whit: Come here.

And this time, the kisses are long and lingering.

Whit: I am, you know.

Maggie smiles, but in a way that says Whit is moving too fast.

Whit: Dinner at my hotel tonight?

Maggie: Room service, you mean?

Whit: It’s an idea.

Maggie laughs at the ploy, and he laughs with her.

Maggie: I’ll meet you at the restaurant.

Whit: But room service, they do these, um . . . they do these fantastic little mini-

They’re both laughing.

Maggie: Restaurant. My final offer. (A beat as she steps away and takes off her jacket.) Don’t pout. We’ll get to room service.

Whit: When?

Maggie: When I’m sure. I’ve never dated a player before. I have to watch my step.

Blue Wash to a Morgan family photo of Daisy’s birthday. From left to right:
Jake, standing, with a foot up on a chair in a rugged “model” pose; Ben with an arm around Jake; Daisy sitting at the table with her cake in front of her, leaning in toward; Charlotte, bending down to kiss Daisy; Max, sitting next to Daisy, leaning in and propping the cake up for the picture; and Em leaning in over Max to be sure to get in the picture.

Cut to:

Interior, Morgan kitchen, Day:

Daisy and Willa are still working on campaign things, this time addressing the envelopes. Daisy listens intently to something outside.

Daisy: (with a small smile) His car just pulled up.

Willa: I didn’t hear anything. What, you have supersonic hearing or what?

Daisy: Only for Jonathan. Love makes all of my senses heightened.

Willa: Really.

Daisy: So, what’s the plan again?

Willa: Just talk to him, Spiderman.

Jon and Charlotte enter, arguing.

Jon: It’s a huge, huge waste of money. And, some kids are more ambitious than others, period.

Willa gestures, encouraging Daisy to get in on the conversation.

Charlotte: Alright, maybe you were born ambitious, but you had good examples, all the advantages.

Jonathan: Actually, I was given very little guidance as a child. And look where I ended up.

Daisy and Willa are watching the verbal sparring as Charlotte and Jon remove their coats. Char and Jon face each other from opposite sides of the table, a visual representation of where they stand on this issue.

Charlotte: Well, imagine where you’d be if you had an after school resource center.

Daisy: (as an aside to Willa) Have you noticed he’s got this new thing goin’ on? Like, um, hair and clothes?

Willa: It’s like this whole new vibe.

Charlotte: (leaning across the table, passionately making her point) So look, I know that we’re not gonna fix all these kids, but we can at least expand their imaginations to what’s possible.

Daisy: I have a friend who went to an after school center, and she got pregnant.

Jonathan: (as if his point is made) Ha! Thank you!

Charlotte: Daisy, please, don’t help.

Daisy: I’m just saying that maybe Jonathan has a point.

Jonathan: (to Char) Out of the mouths of babes.

Daisy frowns, surprised and offended by this comment.

Charlotte: No, his point is not that girls get pregnant. Which, by the way, teenage pregnancy goes way down when kids have someplace to go.

Daisy: I’m not a—a baby.

Charlotte: Jon, I am serious. If you ask me to take the center out of my budget one more time—

Jonathan: You’re gonna arm wrestle me for it?

Charlotte: Yes. And I’ll win. Ask Daisy. She knows my arm wrestling skills.

And Charlotte gracefully storms (if one can gracefully storm) out of the room.

Jonathan watches her leave, a look of extreme admiration on his face.

Jonathan: Well, she is something.

Daisy: (with a nervous laugh) Well, what—what is she?

Jonathan. I don’t know. Something . . . good.

He leaves.

As Daisy and Willa watch Jonathan leave the room . . .

Willa: Well, I mean, he likes a good fight. I can respect that.

Daisy: (shaking her head, her lips curled in disgust) No, that’s not what he likes. Oh my God. Jonathan has the hots for my mom.

Cut to:

Interior, Dark room, still lit red:

Max and Nona are where they were before, Nona seated, watching Max hang dripping pictures over the chemical trays.

Nona: Can I be blunt? (She rises and steps very close to him.)

Max: Would you listen if I said no?

Nona: No.

And she takes his face in her hands and gives him a long, lingering kiss.

He puts his hands on her shoulders, gently pushing her away and breaking the kiss. His eyes and his smile say that this is something of a surprise, but he can totally appreciate it.

Max: 'Ey. I just want to let you know that things are kinda complicated right now.

Nona: Yeah, yeah. Okay. We just talked about it, and I understand. Can I be blunt again?

And she plants another long, lingering kiss on him. This time he takes her face in his hands, fingers in her hair, to nudge her back and look her in the eye, as he has done throughout this entire exchange.

Max: Nona . . .

Nona: Hit the reset button, Max.

And another passionate lip lock, this time her arm around his neck, and he’s not pushing her away so much as letting his arms pull her toward him.

Fade to BLACK.

Act III

Fade up on:

Interior, Max’s room, Day:

Max is sitting on his bed tying his shoes. Wardrobe notes: he’s wearing a casual, almost trendy but not, black and gray ribbed sweater with a crew neck. Later in the scene, when he rubs his eyebrow, you can see zippers at the cuffs. The sweater doesn’t sound like much, but he looks good, regardless.

Em walks by the open door, then backs up when she sees Max.

Em: Yo!

Max: Hey, Mouse.

Em leans on the door jamb, arms crossed in that sister “tell me the story, dude,” attitude.

Em: Heard you had a bird over here yesterday.

Max’s smile says he’s been caught, and he doesn’t care.

Max: I ain’t gonna lie to ya.

Em: Right on, Max.

Max: (with a grin) She’s crazy.

Max gets up and crosses the room to finish dressing.

Em: That’s good for you. (On second thought . . . ) Not, like, looney bin crazy.

Max: Naw, like, wild crazy. Fun. (He’s putting on his belt.)

Em: Very good for you. Did you, uh . . . (The wide eyes, lifted eyebrows, and excited smile ask the rest of the question. “Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.”)

Max: (with an embarrassed laugh and a smile) No. Not yet.

Em: Are you gonna see her again?

Max: Yeah, I think so. I don’t know. I’m just not quite sure about . . .

Em: About what? (She steps into the room and sit/leans against Max’s desk.)

Max: I dunno.

Em: (sighs) You’re single, Max. You don’t owe Maggie anything.

Max smiles (he does a LOT of smiling in this scene, and it’s a delight to behold) and nods agreement.

Em smiles, too.

Em: I like seeing you all geeked up like this.

Max rubs the inside corner of his eye, but it’s more of a trying to hide gesture. He’s shy and embarrassed and his sister is happy for him and I just want to smish him. Oh, and he’s wearing the ring on his thumb again.

Em: (with a hint of self-deprecating sarcasm) Almost makes me forget about my wonderful love life. (She turns to leave.)

Max: What’s up?

Em raises a hand in the “don’t ask” gesture as the turns her back and leaves the room.

Cut to:

Interior, Just inside the patio door, Day:

Jonathan and Charlotte are having a working lunch at a table on the patio while Daisy and Willa work at the dining room table inside the patio door.

Daisy watches them for a moment, then turns back to Willa.

Daisy: He’s puking with love. He’s got cartoon hearts coming out of his eyes. I can’t believe he’d feel that way about my mom.

Willa: Look, I don’t want to freak you out, but, you know, a lot of grieving parents have marriage trouble break-ups.

Daisy eyes grow wide and she shakes herself at the unthinkableness of the suggestion.

Daisy: How is that not gonna freak me out? Where did you read this?

Willa: Some website. The Family After, I think.

Daisy: I told you to stop reading that stuff.

Willa: I just wanted to have your back.

Daisy: Okay, you do. You do. When you’re not alarming, you’re incredibly supportive.

Willa: All I’m saying is that some mothers go for younger guys.

Daisy: Willa!

Willa: (a little self-defensive) Well you wouldn’t believe the numbers.

Daisy: Okay, they’re numbers. They don’t have anything to do with my life.

Willa: (conceding to keep the peace) You know what? You’re totally right. It’s true. Your family’s amazing for the way it’s held together.

Daisy sucks in her bottom lip, thinking, then turns back to watch Jon and Char.

Cut to:

Exterior, Road, Day:

Max drives his motorcycle along a street of large brick houses, iron gates, and trees. Autumn leaves cover the ground. He’s wearing his suede coat, satchel slung across his shoulder, and his black helmet. He pulls up to a low curb where Nona is waiting.

Nona: Come on, come on, come on. Stop your lollygagging, beautiful. A photo op awaits.

Max throws down the kick stand, cuts the engine.

Max: I got here as fast as I could. (He quickly unbuckles the strap under his chin, whips off his helmet, and hangs it on the handlebar.)

He follows her several yards up the street.

Max: So how’d you hear about this?

Nona: Police scanner, dude. (Off Max’s look) What? [The beginning of the next line is garbled, either “I guess the ex” or maybe “Just-An-Ex”] didn’t have one?

Max rolls his eyes.

Max: (seeing what they’re there to take pictures of) Wow. Nice . . . parking.

Nona: Right?

A silver sedan sits on its roof, against a tree, windows broken out.

Nona: You said you needed a few great shots. Get to it.

Max pulls out his camera and starts shooting . . . the car, the police on the scene directing traffic, the victim, wearing an oxygen mask, sitting at the back of an ambulance as the EMTs fill out the paperwork. Nona snaps some pics along with him.

Final shot is a long shot of the car, which dissolves into a developed b&w pic being held in someone’s hand.

Interior, Studio room, Day:

A man is looking at Max’s pics, and he’s very impressed. This is Finn Staley.

Finn: Huh.

He surveys the rest of Max’s work with a considering sigh, pointing out items on the coffee table that he likes. Max sits on the couch, leaning forward anxiously. He wipes a hand across his mouth nervously.

Finn: That’s not bad.

The pictures are of a variety of things—a merchant in China Town, the retreating back of someone carrying a surf board.

Finn: Huh. (He pulls out his glasses to take a closer look at something.) I’ve never seen Williamson lighten up like this.

Insert CU of photo of Williamson taken after the practice.

Finn: Man, he looks like a kid. (He removes his glasses.) You took all these since we talked last week.

Max moues his lips and nods, surveying the pictures spread in front of them.

Max: Yeah. (He looks at Finn expectantly.)

Finn: Well, you’re a quick study, Max.

Max: Yeah, things just felt right, you know? It was, uh, it was a good week.

Finn: So.

Max looks at him intently, eagerly. He really wants this job.

Cut to:

Interior, Catering kitchen:

Stack is putting a packaged item together—it looks like a nicely wrapped scone, with their new business card/logo on it—presenting it on a silver tray, while Em pipes something onto something else at the table, and Daisy looks on.

Stack: Presenting . . . Bite This Catering. And our waitresses also dance.

Daisy: It looks great, Stack.

Em: We should have designed something quicker to make.

Daisy: Nice attitude.

Em: Daisy, we’re working here.

Daisy: I don’t mind.

Em stares daggers at her sister.

Daisy: I will be inside if you need any positive reinforcement.

Em isn’t watching when she takes the tray, and drops it with a loud clatter. The tidbit that Stack has worked so hard on falls apart on the floor.

Em: Oh, no! Oh, I’m sorry!

Stack: (bending down to help Em clean up. With much sarcasm) Two hours well spent. Great.

Em: You need to work on your management skills.

Stack: Yeah, and you need to work on not dropping the food. You’ve had carpal tunnel syndrome ever since Gideon left.

Em: Don’t be a jerk.

Stack: Are you naturally clumsy, then?

Em: It’s not because of him. Will you get off it!

They look at each other hard for a moment before retreating to their separate corners. Em returns to her piping.

Stack: (clearing his throat, taking a beat) Okay, I think what we need here is maybe a little employee break time off site.

Em: We need to finish these, and then start work on the menus. We’ve had three calls for them.

Stack: I think the menus can wait. I think a clear head makes a better cook, so let’s blow outta here, huh?

Em: And do what? We’re broke.

Stack: (grabbing some keys) Well, then, we’ll just have to go for a drive. Down hill. Save gas.

That prompts a small smile from Em.

Stack grabs his coat and stands waiting for Em’s decision.

Em: You like pool?

Cut to:

Interior, Hallway outside Finn’s loft apartment/studio:

A green metal door opens and Max exits, looking very undecided. Nona is sitting outside the door waiting for him. She stands with eager anticipation.

Nona: So?

Max: Well . . . (a sigh) . . . I start tomorrow.

Nona gasps with delight and Max grins as she jumps on him, throws her arms around his neck, wraps her legs around his waist. He holds her tight, and they kiss.

Nona: Right on, Max.

Max: I couldn’t have done it without you.

They kiss again and hug in celebration.

Cut to:

Interior, Freight elevator, Moments later:

Max looks very pleased with everything, almost dreamy, almost high on how well things are going.

Nona: (breathily) I’m digging your whole thing.

Max: (smiling lazily at Nona, who’s standing next to him, smiling) Really. The whole thing? (He gestures on "whole thing.")

Nona: (getting closer) Believe it or not, I was starting to take life a little too seriously before I met you.

She leans in, and they kiss. She’s got her hands in his hair, she’s stroking his face, but he pushes her away . . .

. . . only to step away long enough to hit the switch and stop the elevator. He then pulls her to him, and in the midst of heavy lip lock, they start pulling off each other’s coats, shirts . . . it’s hot and steamy and . . .

Blue Wash to:

Maggie at her desk in the gallery. We hear along with her the sound of a motorcycle outside. Maggie gets up, eager to see Max.

VOJ: Max’s bike. She looks for him every time she hears it.

Maggie watches Max out the window with a smile . . .

. . . until she sees Nona. Nona picks up the silver passenger’s helmet, and climbs on behind Max.

VOJ: Maybe this will be the last time.

Max looks happy. He sees Maggie watching him out the window, and after a moment waves to her. Nona is holding tightly to Max as they ride off.

Maggie looks crushed.

Whit sees Max and Nona pull away, and Maggie looks so dejected.

Whit: Hey! I have an idea.

Maggie gives him her attention.

Whit: Have you ever been to Barcelona?

Maggie gives a small shake of her head.

Whit: It’s a beautiful city.

Maggie: (with a small smile) You’ve said.

Whit: So what do you think?

Maggie: About going to Barcelona?

Whit: Yeah.

Maggie: Just like that.

Whit: Yep.

Maggie: Whit . . . (she turns away, looking tired)

Whit: (taking her by the arm) Maggie, it’s like a dream. The food is amazing. People dance all night, sleep till lunchtime . . .

Maggie: When?

Whit: Friday. We’ll do it up.

Maggie: They really dance all night?

Dissolve to:

Interior, An aparment:

A door opens and Nona enters, switching on a light as she leads Max into her apartment. She’s ready and rarin’ to go. She pulls him by the jacket into the room toward herself and they kiss. Max breaks the kiss first.

Nona: What’s wrong?

Max: Nothin’.

Nona: What happened between the elevator and here?

Max: Nothing. Seriously. I could go for a beer, though.

Nona: That’s better.

She kisses him once more before leaving him in the living room.

Max stands in the center of the room, looking around, when the door opens and a man carrying a bag on his shoulder enters. He is as surprised to see Max as Max is to see him, maybe more so.

Max: Hey.

Man: Hey.

Nona’s voice can be heard from the other room, asking an indistinguishable two-syllable question. “Remmie?” maybe.

Man: Who, uh, who are you?

Max: I’m Max. I’m a friend of Nona’s. Who are you?

Man: (as if it should be obvious) I’m Remmie. Her fiancé?

Max is taken completely by surprise, and it shows in his expression. He nods slightly, as if acknowledging the relationship. He swallows nervously. This will get awkward, possibly messy. He has no intention of causing trouble.

VOJ: Fiancé? You’d think the guy from beyond could have seen that coming. Sorry, Max.

Blue Fade to BLACK.

Acts IV & V

[identity profile] andromakhe001.livejournal.com 2008-10-08 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Ahhh...I wish I could see this but I feel like I can from your descriptions. :) Great job.

[identity profile] feliciakw.livejournal.com 2008-10-09 08:30 am (UTC)(link)
Thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

[identity profile] gatorpez.livejournal.com 2008-10-08 11:43 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you! I appreciate all the details you put into this, the clothing, the smiles, etc. It must take forever to put this all together.

Thanks again.

Also, I have to add...damn you, FOX! LOL

[identity profile] feliciakw.livejournal.com 2008-10-09 08:33 am (UTC)(link)
I'm glad you're enjoying it. I'm really trying with the details, because I know these will probably never be seen, and just sharing the dialogue isn't enough to build the mental picture. I'm glad the details help.

[identity profile] just-ruth.livejournal.com 2008-10-08 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Wonderful as ever. It's so not fair that it can't be shared.

[identity profile] feliciakw.livejournal.com 2008-10-09 08:35 am (UTC)(link)
Thanks. :-) I have half a mind to contact FOX and suggest that they make these available through Internet download. I can't see that they'd have anything to lose in doing so.


[identity profile] just-ruth.livejournal.com 2008-10-09 10:42 am (UTC)(link)
And I'd pay to download them - I bet I'm not the only one.